Duty Bound: Rider of the Black Horse
by Boredom Management
Summary: "The Law is clear. When the Seven Seals are broken, four Horsemen shall ride forth to punish the wicked, be they the Sons of Man, Lords of Heaven, or Dregs of Hell." - The Charred Council... The Rider of the Black horse was summoned to go down to the Third Kingdom for a mission. Set after War defied the Council and before the End of Days. Angels. Demons. Nephilims. Enjoy...
1. Prologue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I noticed no one posted a story for Fury, just the romance one. And I noticed that Darksiders 3 game will come out soon, so I decided to make my own story based on Fury's profile. I also did my story's plot in advance as my guide and just think of the situations and conversations later. My second original fic and I hope you liked it. And... Reviews anyone...**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fury of Darksiders, that's THEIR own. However, I did thought about her personality, steed and weapon names, some of her abilities, the timeline, and some OCs BEFORE I have read any of the posts about her steed's name or her abilities from the Darksiders communities on the net...**

* * *

**I**

The barren lands always look like this, miles and miles of desert sand and dry grounds. Devoid of visible life. The land howls as winds blew against the canyons and mesas across the arid plains. With it is the stench of human blood.

Fury, rider of the black horse _Retribution_ and one of the Four Horsemen of Apocalypse, swept her eyes all around her. The desert wind caresses her pale skin and blowing against her purple hair behind her like a flag, as did too the horse's black mane. The horse neighed softly, slightly raising its hooves, as it shook its head trying to repel the desert flies landing on its eyes. Fury's blank yellow eyes narrowed as she cocked her head to the side, listening intently. Sounds. Very faint, but still there. Through her superior senses only a Nephilim like herself possess, she filtered out the sounds from the air. She turned her gaze to a distance, pulling the horse's rein and galloping towards that direction. She has a bad feeling about this.

* * *

The Charred Council's Realm

The last of the training Golems fell into rubbles, being cut to pieces from limb to limb, joining the other fallen Golems around. The Rider stood amidst the mess around her in that training chamber, in the Charred Council's Realm. The chamber itself was cavernous, red hot lava flowing from several large Gargoyle's heads sticking out high up the chamber walls, and falling onto the base and forming a fiery moat around the vast training ground. The lava served as a light source, illuminating the entire chamber, bright enough to discern the Rider's emotionless face from the surrounding darkness.

Her feminine form; clad in a long leathery dress that exposes her cleavage, along with arm cloths and high boots, stood out against the chamber's luminance. A figure that can tempt angels and demons, or rival even that of Lilith's. Those perfectly formed breasts, curves, perfect rear bumpers, slender legs, and delicate arms, along with her pretty face – features she inherited from her angelic side. Her pale skin, yellow eyes, along with her unnatural strength and dexterity – all inherited from her demonic side. And it's all because of the demon Lilith who, all the Riders with the exception of Death, acknowledges as their 'Mother'.

She gripped her weapon, the fiery blue whip Justice, too tightly that her nails dug into her flesh, but too lost in thought to even feel the pain. She just stood there, letting the whip's fiery Thong hang, the whip's fall down to its Popper lying on the ground and heating it up to a point that the rock began to turn red. Her left taloned hand hung to her side as she stared at the rock floor in deep thought. How long has it been?

It's been a century or so since the last time she had visited Earth along with her brothers under the Charred Council's orders. Their youngest brother, War, defied the Council and now rampages unchecked, having already slaughtered a whole army of medieval warriors when they arrived. They have no choice but to engage him in combat, as he took them all, three to one. She could see the anger in his eyes as she fought him. She was knocked out, about to be impaled with War's weapon, _Chaoseater_. Until Death intervened and took the brunt of it all without flinching. She trapped War's weapon and left arm, as Death remorselessly cut the limb off. She heard him roar in pain as he clutched his arm, or what's left of it. She felt his pain as she watched him bleed.

_'What have I done? He is my brother, one of the Nephilims!'_ Her mind clashed together_. 'But it was necessary. It was the Charred Council's orders… it was the Law!' _

The Law. Yes, it's always been about the Law. She's always the obedient servant, obeying all orders without questioning, unlike her brothers. And she will enforce the Law no matter what. She snapped back to reality as she sensed something around her. She quickly lashed out towards the direction of the standing rocks, cutting down a row of stalagmites clean off their bases. She narrowed her eyes as she glared at the shadows.

"Show yourself!"

"Relax, Rider…"

A high pitched voice called out, as a dark figure rose slowly from the shadows. It has a small framed and winged body, slender arms, and a humanoid face with the exception of any visible nose of mouth, with two pairs of yellow eyes. It rose high up in the air using its long serpentine lower torso, connected to the ground, as it moved closer towards her.

"Watcher…"

"You have been summoned by the Council…"

* * *

She trudged along the rocky path towards the Charred Council's chamber. A deep commanding voice echoed from the chamber, as she stood at the entrance.

''Come...Rider of the black horse...''

Infernal braziers sparked to life as she stepped onto the wide rocky platform of the chamber mouth. Other braziers lit up around the chamber, revealing a lake of magma before her, giving off a warm glow. At the centre of the lake is an island of rock in the shape of a crescent firmly rooted amid the magma basin. As she stood, the magma before her quickly cools and rising above the liquid surface as it does, forming a wide and solid path. She stepped on the first few feet then continued as new segments of the path continued to form ahead, until she had reached her destination.

She is now face to face with the Charred Council, the Keeper of Balance in the universe. It was an Old One, an entity that came in between the warring First and Second Kingdoms, acted as mediator between the two races into a truce. Their true form was a mystery, but they chose their current forms as three huge rocks with humanoid features; having pairs of blazing eyes and complete with a gaping mouth each. It is a single entity, but have three distinct personalities represented by three stone heads. The first head is the ill-tempered one, accusatory and harsh. The second is the ever questioning one. While the third is not easy to rouse, carefully weighing all possibilities before acting on it. No matter what their opinions are, they always arrives to a conclusion and final decision.

They towered over the Rider before them, separated by a river of magma, eyeing her intently as she them.

''I answer thy summon...''

''Rider'', the third head spoke in a calm, yet booming voice that echoed across the chamber.

''We have a mission for you...''

''Tell me and I will do it.''

''Good. Straightforward as usual and without questions asked. However, you must listen very carefully...''

_''Have you heard of the so-called Crusade of the Third Kingdom?''_ The second head asked.

''I have. The Third Kingdom has been warring with itself, killing for power and dominance for centuries. Why would it be any different now?''

''**Those humans think they can do whatever they want…**'' The First head boomed. "**Those ignorant fools! They make war in the name of the Creator who they think knew so well. But we knew it was only their greed for wealth, lust for power and pride that drives them…''**

''But, the humans are not the main reason of your quest, Rider, ''the Third spoke. ''But what decimated them.''

''Decimated?''

''A whole War camp of human warriors was reported by the Watchers to be obliterated, slaughtered to the last man...''

Whole army. Obliterated to the last man. The memories came rushing back again. A whole army destroyed, every soul extinguished in a fit of rage. And standing atop the carnage was...War.

''By who?'' She snapped back to reality.

"**And that's where you step in, Rider!**''

''Go. Seek the answers for thyself and punish those responsible of such an act, be they angels or demons...Or both. ''The Third ordered.

''Your will be done...''She said curtly, turned and left the way she came from.

The stone path gradually melted back to liquid form in her wake. The Council watched as she disappeared from view.

_''Are we sure we sent the right enforcer for this mission?''_ The Second spoke.

''We have...''The Third answered. ''She is the most loyal of the Four, unlike her brothers. And I trust she will bring good news when she returns…''


	2. Clues

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I noticed no one posted a story for Fury, just the romance one. And I noticed that Darksiders 3 game will come out soon, so I decided to make my own story based on Fury's profile. I also did my story's plot in advance as my guide and just think of the situations and conversations later. My second original fic and I hope you liked it. And... Reviews anyone...**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fury of Darksiders, that's THEIR own. However, I did thought about her personality, steed and weapon names, some of her abilities, the timeline, and some OCs BEFORE I have read any of the posts about her steed's name or her abilities from the Darksiders communities on the net...**

**Yeah... I know I suck at making summaries... Ugh! I also suck at making conversations, feeling like its not making sense in connection to the story... And reviews should help...Thanks...**

* * *

**II**

The black horse, _Retribution,_ slowed to a trot, the black mane waving against the wind and red eyes flickering. Up ahead the desert sands were their first destination, and the site of carnage.

The metallic scent of blood filled the air around them as the Rider entered the camp. Corpses clad in metallic armours were strewn apart, lying everywhere, as carrion birds and worms feasted upon their dead meat. The bodies were so mutilated beyond recognition - dismembered, decapitated or just simply torn apart with brute force. Upon closer scrutiny, the wounds appeared to be singed or cauterized using extreme heat. Armours, mostly chainmails to plate mails, were simply ripped apart like paper or cleaved in with a weapon. Shields were crumpled or pierced through, weapons bent or broken. All evidence indicating a Demon attack. But Fury gets the feeling that something's off somehow, and she's determined to uncover its mystery.

Looking around, she noticed something odd. Siege machines were lined properly, except for a unit or two still being assembled. Or disassembled, nothing suspicious with that. Pavilions around the camp were undisturbed, but not those near the bodies. It seemed the camp was attacked in the process of preparation, but a raid cannot possibly have caused this mess.

Firstly, the perimeter was painstakingly prepared to deter any attacker: towers were set up for lookout; the perimeter grounds lined with long spikes planted diagonally in the ground to dissuade enemy cavalry; and the troops were battle-ready, only a foolish or desperate commander would dare attach such base.

Secondly, raiders tend to burn everything and loot anything of value-which never happened. She gazed around, her mind registering all information gathered and forming hypothesis on what had transpired here. It seemed these human warriors, Knights as their people called them, were in the process of planning a major assault, when they were attacked. And they stood no chance against whatever destroyed them. But something was amiss.

Following her intuition, she dismounted then entered one of the pavilions. Inside, a bald man in a dirty white tunic lay dead before an altar, a gaping hole about a man's fist on his chest. The altar before him was designed artistically, a golden crucifix embedded in front with golden filigree along the edges. On it were religious items which included crucifixes, candles, silver chalices, and an open tome. The tome's pages showed writings of Gothic texts written in Latin tongue, and a highlighted phrase reads:

**Matthew 13:41**

**_''The Son of Man shall send forth his Angels, and they shall gather out of his kingdom all things that offend and them which do iniquity.''_**

A Bible of old, a rare treasure for those religious at that time. And Angels? Why would this man be interested in Angels? She scanned the Bible and found other phrases that tells of Angels. Unless...

She kneeled on one knee, placing a palm face down upon the shadows, muttering an incantation. The shadows seemed to pool together, swirling into a vortex. The mass of shadows quickly formed into another shape, into a black furry dog with glowing red eyes. _Shadow Summoning_, one of the powers that the Council had bestowed upon her, as Death has _Necromancy_. She gazed at her 'pet', as it watched her, ready for her orders.

''Scout ahead. Find something...''

With that, the shadow beast dashed outside, like a dog given its momentary freedom. She followed it with her eyes for a while until it disappeared behind a pavilion, trailing black smoke that instantly disappear in the air.

She continued her search for clues, when she found a trail leading away from the site to the desert. It was, however, something else as it looked more of a black ichor. She followed it to its source where it abound the most, until she came to the centre of the camp.

There, at the centre of a wide ground, stood an altar made of large stones before a wooden cross, incense rising up. She noticed that the cross was planted on the centre of a crater, while black feathers scattered all around the altar. Black feathers?

She noticed her black dog sniffing one of the plumes, but not near enough to touch it. She kneeled down and attempted to touch it when she felt a presence behind her.

''Stop!'' a female voice shouted. ''Don't touch that!''

Fury quickly reached for her weapon, _Justice_, strapped on her waist the moment she sensed a presence behind her. She heard a warning cry, quickly retracting her hand from touching the black feather as she jumped back. Glancing up as she jumped, she made out two winged images floating on air, wings outstretched.

Her eyes focused on the figures, time seemed to slow down as she took in their features. Both are obviously angels by their avian wings, a male and a female. The male was clad in golden Angelic armour crisscrossed with claw marks and blade bites, dents and scratches on his Wankel shield and a sword in hand. His wings grey, as was the color of his hair sticking out of his helm. Obviously a veteran of many battles against demons for a long time.

The female behind him, wore a simple long white tunic, a golden necklet holding her tops, a golden corset on her small waist along with a golden belt that held some scrolls and tomes. Over her tunic is a long robe with angelic runes along the hemlines. Her white hair flowed shoulder level, mirroring her fierce white eyes, billowed by the wind. Her golden wings, tipped with azure feathers, flapped gently to keep her aloof.

Fury landed in a crouching position, instantly releasing Justice in preparation for any attack and lashing sideways to stretch the whip with a loud snapping sound. The male angel in turn brought up his sword before his shield in a combat stance, eyes trained on her, as she also had her eyes on them.

"Care to explain why I can't touch it?" Fury addressed the female angel in a sarcastic tone.

"Because it is demonic of origin!" The angel replied in irritation. "It has to be. It will corrupt anything and everything it touches, and that's what demons do!"

"Is that so? Interesting facts you got there..."

"And I believe that we, the Hellguard, have jurisdiction for that matter."

"Oh?" Fury was amused at this angel's bold declaration but hid her amusement behind her stoic face. "And I believe you can go and tell that to the Charred Council..."

The angel visibly gritted her teeth in annoyance, much to the Rider's amusement as a slight smirk appeared on her lips. The male angel turned and gave the female a 'can I whack her now?' kind of glance as his eyes met hers. The female picked up his meaning and shook her head.

"No, Juriel. Let her be. It's true we cannot extend the Hellguard's authority over that of the Council's." She knew fully well not to foolishly defy any Riders acting under the Council's orders. And suffer the consequences of her action. The male angel, Juriel, just nodded and returned his gaze upon the Rider.

"Now, angels, what do you -"Fury was cut short.

A loud cry of pain echoed across the camp and all heads turned at its source. The Shadow Beast summoned by the Rider moments ago was now writhing and trashing about as it yelped in pain. Against its black glossy fur, an even darker matter had attached itself, slowly enveloping the beast as a serpent would constrict its prey to death.

"Oh no..."The female muttered under her breath.

"No what?" Fury asked but the angel didn't answer back.

The dark matter slowly made its way into the beast's mouth as it trashed about. It forced its way inside, gradually changing its features the way it wants quickly. The beast's red eyes turned black, black tentacles exploded out from its body in numbers.

"Quick!" The angel cried in alarm. "Destroy the beast before it's fully transformed!"

With fluid movements, Fury dashed towards the beast in a blur. She brought the whip in a fiery arc, but instead hit dirt as the beast abruptly receded back to the shadows. The shadow quickly darted to the nearest shadows cast by the surrounding pavilions.

"I believe your...pet...had been corrupted by darkness..."the female informed her in a calmer tone.

"Stating the obvious..."Fury rolled her eyes, if one can see any pupils.

"Prepare yourselves!" Juriel called out. "It's coming back!"

Before he could finish warning, the beast leapt from the shadows behind the angels, heading directly for the female. It flew over the surprised angel as he followed its path with his eyes.

"Marion!"

The female angel, Marion, turned back to see a set of black fangs lined in a gaping pair of jaws about to snap at her, too late to react. The beast was just too fast. Surprise took hold of her as she felt a burning sensation around her waist, suddenly tugged out of the beast's path forcefully as it closed its jaws with a snap. She then felt herself released, or rather, thrown.

"Eyes to the ground!"

She found herself plummeting to the ground. She looked back above and saw the Rider high up the air, Juriel reeling back with his shield held too close against him. Then came the realization - the Rider had jumped high enough to use the other angel's shield to launch herself higher, and using her fiery whip to pull her out of the way. She cursed in Angel tongue as a scowl drew upon her face. No one ever touched her without her permission, much less throw her around.

She then looked down with eyes open, palms out stretched before her as they glowed golden white. A glowing angelic sigil appeared on the ground, where she dove right through it like a water fowl into water.

A burst of white light flashed and the sigil abruptly vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The Angel along with it...


	3. Beast

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I noticed no one posted a story for Fury, just the romance one. And I noticed that Darksiders 3 game will come out soon, so I decided to make my own story based on Fury's profile. I also did my story's plot in advance as my guide and just think of the situations and conversations later. My second original fic and I hope you liked it. And... Reviews anyone...**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fury of Darksiders, that's THEIR own. However, I did thought about her personality, steed and weapon names, some of her abilities, the timeline, and some OCs BEFORE I have read any of the posts about her steed's name or her abilities from the Darksiders communities on the net...**

**Sorry that the previous part was cut short... Comment in anything, that may help on the next parts...ty.**

* * *

**III**

Fury watched the female Angel, Marion, from the corner of her eyes as she passed through the Angelic Sigil. Just as she thought. Returning her attention to the Beast, she spun in mid-air and lashed out, hitting it on the cranium. The momentum coupled with gravity caused it to plummet to the ground in a high velocity drop, crashing against the camp altar with a loud thud.

The male Angel took the opportunity to strike while the Beast was down. Powering up his weapon with Angelic flames, he swung towards the crash site, releasing a fiery crescent from his blade.

"Die!" The crescent flame exploded upon impact, but the Rider can still sense the creature amidst the flames.

A bright white Angelic Sigil appeared horizontally behind the Rider, hovering in mid-air. Marion floated out off of it and hovered with her wings flapping gently. A scowl on her face.

"Rider, do you have to do that!?" She yelled in anger.

"No, but I did it anyway. And you're welcome..." Fury said simply." And that just confirmed my suspicion that you're a Caster."

"You should just have asked me!"

"I know you Angels are a proud and arrogant race. You don't answer to anyone you consider a lesser race and those in between. Just like a Demon's mentality."

"You dare insult us!?"

"Just stating the facts. And need I tell you, your arrogance was all the Beast had counted on earlier. Just be grateful you had not seen what its stomach looks like."

Marion gritted her teeth in anger. The Rider's sarcasm was getting to her, biting her deeply. She really wants to strangle this insolent Rider if she could.

Their attention was drawn by a roar emanating from the crash site. The shadow beast emerged from the dust and smoke, the wound dealt to it moments ago slowly closing up, to the male Angel's frustration. Noticeable were the physical change as black liquid flowed and attached to its body. It grew triple its size, black bristles replaced the fur, and a tail lashing behind it, knocking the wooden crucifix behind the altar's rubble. It drooled the same black liquid, flowing from sharp yellow teeth lining the jaws. It glared at them murderously through blank eye sockets, the eyes having erupted or shrank deeper, as it seemed to study them a bit. With another roar, it charged at them with the intention of devouring them alive or simply ripping them apart.

Being Angels and a Nephilim, they managed to track its movement and direction. But keeping up with its pace is another story.

Marion rained Angelic fire down its path, but it simply dodged around them as it zigzagged forward. Juriel held his shield in front of him in an assault stance with his sword at the ready. With powerful wings thrusting him forward, he met the beast head on. They collided midway, the Angel's force throwing the beast sideways against the siege machines at the sides. The massive war engines toppled but failed to crush the beast. It emerged unharmed and lunged at the Angel, ramming him hard enough to throw him in return into the nearby pavilions. Rolling out of a claw's path, he spun to strike at its flanks but missed when it actually jumped higher. It crashed down to his former position in force, him barely evading with a dash. It had surprised him that it can move quicker despite its massive size. The exchange of blows continued with strikes from both usually ending in either miss or blocks,and neither side gaining the upper hand.

* * *

"Angel..." Fury addressed the Angel as she watched the battle.

"That's Marion to you," the Angel replied in an irritated voice."Hybrid..."

"Didn't hear that, thank you. And Fury's the name," the Rider said cooly. " I have a plan."

"What plan?"

"Care to listen?"

* * *

Juriel was now panting as he glared at the monster before him, additional damages on his armor. The only one who made him that tired was the leader of the Hellguard, Abaddon, in one sparring and that he did not break any sweat. How can this monster be this resilient? He had dealt it blows that could cripple Demons, but this one took all the beatings without showing any signs of pain. But he just have to press on the attack.

He then dashed to strike at it, but was surprised by its next action. It dodged sideways and brought its tails slamming into him, as he barely brought up his shield to block the incoming blow.

* * *

"That's you plan?!" Marion exclaimed. She had been reining her anger inside but was slowly spilling out. The absurd 'plan' of the Rider left her fuming, and totally forgetting about the other Angel.

"Yes..." Fury replied flatly. She just ignored the Angel's murderous glares as she watched the battle unfold.

"No! Not acceptable! By the honor of the Hellguard, we will not let you use us as bait in order to destroy that creature. Never!"

"Not necessarily a bait, but as a distraction. A means to study any of its weaknesses if there is any." She pointed a finger in front. "And I think you should take a look after your partner, he's in a tight spot right now."

Marion turned her attention towards the battle taking place, seeing the other Angel struggling to fend off all the beast's attacks, his shield severely damaged. Shock written on her face as she realized she had completely forgot about him with her fussing with the Rider.

"You see, my plan was already underway the minute they clashed," Fury explained, possibly or purposely, unaware of the Angel's shocked expression. "And all are going according to plan..."

Marion glanced at Fury's expressionless face then was gone in a gust of wind.

"And besides..." Fury continued, addressing no one in particular, as her shadow began to stir and wave slightly underneath. "...that 'beast' was still a pet of mine. And what it needs is a little reeducation from its master..."

* * *

The beast's claws clamped around the top edges of the shield and was forcing it down. Juriel can only struggle to keep it in between him and the creature's jaws. His weapon was lying just out of his arm's reach, and cannot get to it with the beast pounding on him. His helmet was yanked earlier and was now laying crumpled under its foot, uncovering his tanned face with his graying white hair brushing against it. He can't believe his eyes. The beast practically became cleverer by the minute - and he's growing tired. He knew he was weakening. But for now he must fight a little longer.

With a roar, he pushed hard against the weight on his shield. The beast was knocked back, only to retaliate quickly, swatting the shield aside with a massive paw and striking him down with the other. He can only glare at it with hatred as it close in for the kill. But death never came.

"REPEL!"

The beast was thrown to the side in a blur as he felt a gust of wind bushing the side of his face. He then felt an arm around his shoulder and looked up to see Marion's grim face. A worrying look in her eyes, mixed with rage.

"That's enough, you're already weak. Let's just get out of here."

She put here other arm around him as if bracing against an impact. They could see the incoming monster closing in. Muttering an incantation in their Angelic tongue, they vanished in a burst of light and appearing at a nearby elevated terrain overlooking the whole camp.

"Stay still," Marion told him. "I'll heal you."

Her palms glowed as she started healing the warrior's wounds. She had learned healing spells during her time with the First Kingdom's healers during the Battle of Eden, and it came in handy in a number of occasions.

"Let the Rider deal with her own creation..."

* * *

The beast's roars have rang across the valley. Black solid spikes protruded outwards from its massive body, courtesy of Fury. After the flash of light from the Angel's escape earlier, she had summoned a pack of the Black Dogs and sent them to the rampaging beast. And after studying the beast earlier, she had finally located a chink on its armor, literally saying.

The beast met the pack and obviously squashed them with its modified form, and spattering the ground with their remain. Next thing, black tentacles burst from its very shadow and held it in place. Jaws emerged and bit at its feet in a jaw - lock, the tentacles pulling it downwards as it secured its jaws shut. Lastly, spikes emerged directly underneath its belly and impaling it in all directions. Fury moved her arms in sharp movements, bringing them together then pulling them outwards, as if ripping something already in her grasp. The spikes began to buckle against body they're in, struggling all outwards on the flanks. The beast gave a final roar as its body gave in, and was torn apart in a shower of gore. That soon faded

"Wha-"

Both Angels watched from afar flabergasted. The creature they had a hard time dealing with earlier was now in shreds.


	4. A chink in the armor

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I noticed no one posted a story for Fury, just the romance one. And I noticed that Darksiders 3 game will come out soon, so I decided to make my own story based on Fury's profile. I also did my story's plot in advance as my guide and just think of the situations and conversations later. My second original fic and I hope you liked it. And... Reviews anyone...**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fury of Darksiders, that's THEIR own. However, I did thought about her personality, steed and weapon names, some of her abilities, the timeline, and some OCs BEFORE I have read any of the posts about her steed's name or her abilities from the Darksiders communities on the net...**

* * *

**IV**

Fury observed for a little longer as her minions returned to the Shadow Realm, registering no movement. Not for the time being. Bright light flashed behind her, making her look back to see a scowling Marion, who had obviously found another reason to be irritated about, arms crossed.

"Tell me Rider, did you purposely let your minion to be possessed by that thing just to show off your fighting prowess?" The Angel asked in an accusing tone.

"No. Not my style to brag..." The Rider answered dryly.

"How did you defeat it it that easily?"

Fury just stared at her with her usual stoic face, studying her for a moment. She could practically see the resentment in those white eyes of hers. Along with envy. And curiosity.

"Envy..." The Rider started. "Will get you nowhere, Angel". She could see the Angel gritting her teeth, barely reining in her emotion in check. "To elaborate my earlier answer, I don't see why I should use my minion in order to show off my skills to you when I can always fight the both of you. Its true I was its master before it ran amok, however, I can only order them and not control their every move. And as I have stated before, I. Don't. Brag."

She could see the Angel relax a little bit, but still inquisitive about the matter.

"As for your second question, I used my the lump inside my skull called brain to process any and all date to formulate a strategy." She said sarcastically, watching the Angel's scowl return in annoyance.

"What?"

"Two words: patience and observation."

"That's three words you know," Marion smirked, hoping to annoy the Rider in return.

"Funny, never thought you Angels have a sense of humor..." Fury replied dryly, earning a deadly glare from the Angel. "As I said, I used my brain. I studied its bodily response earlier and as I had suspected, the normal weaknesses attributed to Shadow Creatures don't apply anymore."

Marion raised an eyebrow. "Elaboration?"

Fury sighed. Is she a blockhead? Now she had to explain everything.

"Simple shadows disappear if even a tiny speck of light cuts through it. My Shadow Summoning Arts, however, strengthens and re-enforces those creatures with my will, as a condition to my contract with the Shadow Realm, to stand against such simple weakness. Thus, only a much more intense light can destroy them. But, that thing had completely severed my link to it instantly and negated all said weaknesses."

"Right..." Marion nodded, just to annoy her again.

"Your friend had my respect. He made my plan a success just by creating a distraction for me to study it."

Marion's mood darkened at the mention of her plan. She clenched her fist tightly that her nails were digging into her flesh as if she'd care. The Rider used her friend as a decoy, insulted the Hellguard by her words, and she can't take it anymore. To hell with her pride.

"Cheer up, Angel. Because of him, I found a chink in its armor," Fury added, sensing the Angel's mood change. "Literally..."

"A chink you say?" Marion blinked, then looked at her in surprise. Anger all but dissipated gradually, but not entirely. "Do tell."

"When he attacked it with that flame of his, it only regenerated its wound after the attack, but only inside and not outside."

"How can you say that? We all saw its wound close up entirely!"

"No, what you saw was only its inner flesh closing up. What you didn't see is the hard skin that served as its armor against external attacks, hidden in plain sight by its dark color."

"How did that happen?"

"It seemed that that parasite formed a protective layer against outside assaults to its host all the while changing its composition at a molecular level to boost its performance and making it into that grotesque form. And that's in just minutes. I've noticed that once that parasite had attached itself externally, it hardened into a non - regenerative shell or armor, proven when your partner chipped of its armor and it didn't grew back. And all hard on the outside are weak in the inside, its greatest strength became its weakness after all. All I did was exploit that weakness..."

"By using your minions. How underhanded and unhonorable..." Marion stated in disgust. She had always despised those who use others like puppets to do their bidding.

"The honorable warrior, I see..." A smirk drew across Fury's lips. 'Much like War', she thought. "However, unlike your honor - bound code, I have my orders and I do it my way."

"Hmph. I get it, you will accomplish any mission given to you by the Council's order to the letter, and will face even your allies in battle if the needs to complete it dictates." Even your fellow Riders? But she wisely don't want to point that out.

"That sums it..." Fury replied.

"So how did you defeat it then? It still IS made of shadows, aren't they?"

"As I said, my will re-enforces these shadows and guide them as well. However, that creature became completely solid, but still regenerative. In order to unshell it, my pack made it their job to continue and remove its armor completely to reach inside the fleshy areas. Then, my shadows can cut through it easily this time, separating the parasite from its cells and return it once more to its former composition. The latter part was the hardest since it was near to impossible to think about it, much less acting on that thought."

"So, what else-" Marion started before she was cut off. Curiosity did got the better of her.

"Before I answer that..." Fury cut in. "I had one of my own."

"Alright..." Nothing wrong with getting to it, she thought.

"The First Kingdom sent only one Angel to Earth, and that's the Angel of Death. What are you doing here in the first place?"

Marion cringed inside, she admitted she hadn't see that coming.

"By the authority of the Hellguard..." She stated proudly as she raised her eyes. "We were allowed to patrol the Third Kingdom for stray Demons, under the condition that we will not set foot on the ground..." She looked away. "...Until now. Two days ago, we saw a star falling from the Heavens in this direction and rushed to investigate. We met and then...this." She turned back to face her again. "Now, last question..."

Fury studied her face for a while before speaking. "Go on."

"You having known all this just by observing and testing it out, what do you think can that thing do?"

"I noticed that it forced its way inside then took control over its host's actions completely. And I have waited for it to make it move all this time until now."

"What- what are you talking about!?" Marion gasped in astonishment as the colors drained from her face.

"What I'm saying is..." Fury trailed off. She suddenly swung her whip in a wide fiery arc towards her head. A foot's distance when she jerked it back in a single stroke with a snap, with such control that no skin have been touched. Marion did not flinch for a moment.

"What was that!?" The Angel exclaimed, quickly recovering from her surprise. A small mass of the black liquid was on the ground before her, slightly twitching as bluish flames burned through it.

"That thing just as you said can and will corrupt anything and everything it touches. Should one be touched by it, it will gradually overwhelm all resistances he had, and will corrupt his mind and body. He will become a puppet to do the parasite's bidding. He will be damned."

Something snapped inside the Angel's mind, too critical to ignore. Her expression became alarmed as she turned to the male Angel's location.

"Juriel!" She vanished in a burst of light and appeared before him. Another burst and both Angels were nowhere from sight.

Fury just watched unfazed. "Come on out, Watcher," she called out being already aware of another presence.

"You're as sharp as ever, Rider..." The Watcher praised her as he emerged from somewhere.

"What do you want?"

"The Council was expecting of your report..."


	5. Infiltration

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I noticed no one posted a story for Fury, just the romance one. And I noticed that Darksiders 3 game will come out soon, so I decided to make my own story based on Fury's profile. I also did my story's plot in advance as my guide and just think of the situations and conversations later. My second original fic and I hope you liked it. And... Reviews anyone...**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fury of Darksiders, that's THEIR own. However, I did thought about her personality, steed and weapon names, some of her abilities, the timeline, and some OCs BEFORE I have read any of the posts about her steed's name or her abilities from the Darksiders communities on the net...Like the one at Wattpad.**

**Thanks for the comments...Feel free to comment more, even if its wrong spelling or grammars. Those may help in the future.**

* * *

**V**

Dusk settled on the land as a group of harlots hurried across the busy streets of the city. All around were traders displaying their wares and spouting honeyed words to attract anyone who would wish to purchase something. Groups of Crusaders along with a leading Templar Knight marched along on routine patrols around the city. Archers and Crossbowmen stood atop rooftops and battlements as sentries for any potential threats below.

The Crusaders had captured this small city just a few months earlier from the Saracens, and garrisoned as much fighting force as possible, fearing the Saracens' retaliation. Security had been tightened like a knot, as reports of murders on those citizens who openly supported the Crusade swept across the city, the murders having been perpetrated by the assassins of the notorious Hashashin Cult. And their assassins have struck on multiple occasions and from any direction.

Led by a short man wearing a white _Turba_n (a headdress) and black _Burnoose_ (a long cloak) that was carelessly dragged on the ground, the harlots followed him to the gates of a manor owned by a wealthy trader. He was hosting a celebration, in a means to cement a solid relationship with the Crusaders through his food and wine and women. Typical politician.

Fury watched in amusement around her. Guests - mostly of the Templar Order - were slumped down or were already sprawled on soft cushions, served to by the servants who rushed to and fro to serve food and refill empty wine cups. Musicians played festive music with their harps and tambourines; hired magicians performed their last trick such as conjuring fire from nowhere then juggling it or breathing it out; and exotic dancers performing - all for the guest's entertainment.

All around were furniture for the wealthy, silken crimson curtains, some pottery on some stand,and other things she can't understand the humans have a penchant of collecting and stuffing in their room. And she can't fully understand humans. She learned through experience that humans are capable of utter distraction, but are also capable of their compassion and forgiveness wish.

A clap echoed across the room, causing the entertainers to pause on what they're doing as all heads turn towards the source. The host, a fat little man with a balding head of black hair, wearing a mustache coupled with stubble for facial hairs, walked with grace towards the center of the room where everyone can see him, a self-dignified grin on his chubby face showing his golden tooth. He wore a silken red robe with stripes of gold running along its entire length over his _Thoub_ (a long sleeved one piece dress covering the whole body) and a golden sash around his waist up to his bulging belly and a red _Fez_ hat. Around his neck were golden chains and rings of gold with precious stones around mostly of his fingers. He had an air around him bordering on arrogance or pride, or both, Fury noted. Like she cared less. After all, he was just another over-sized swine in fancy clothing passing for a human, according to her definition.

"Honored guests," the host started, bowing slightly. A man in simple _Thoub_ and a _Keffiyeh_(a scarf-like headdress) held in place on his head with an _Ogal_ (a black headband), possibly a slave, translated his every word. "It's been a pleasure on my part having you in my home this day, glad seeing you are quite enjoying yourselves at this moment. I thank you for accepting my invitation, and I am quite honored. I am looking forward to working with you in the near future. Whatever you need, just come to me and I will sort it out. Again, I thank you and as a testament for my good will, I give you..." He paused, and clapped three times. "...Dessert."

The men turned their heads to the curtains being pulled aside by the household guards and in came the pleasure girls in two single files, marching slowly and rocking their hips seductively. The harlots were scarcely dressed as their profession demands them to: a thin veil that covered the nose down; a brassière with a single strap around the neck; and underwear covered by a thin skirt or trousers cut lengthwise at both sides. They showed their slightly tanned skins and pierced navels, just showing how much they look forward to give pleasure with their body as well as receive it. The sight made a number of reactions from the men as they were now served with the exotic local dish. A somewhat different taste from the wenches from their homeland back in Europe. Some just hung their mouth agape with eyes wide open, some ogled with wide grins, while some whistled and wolf howled.

But the Rider saw beyond the women's flirtatious demeanors, deeper into their façade. Many were sold to slavery by raiders or by their very kin. And some were forced to it, a necessity to survive in the city.

Just as she can see the men's wants through their expressions. Lust. It rages like fire in their eyes, quenchable only by the bodily contacts they so wishes to get later, hungry to ravish the prey they set their eyes upon. Though, she admitted being amused at the sight, seeing them with wide eyes, dropped jaws, and the throaty gulps slightly audible in the chamber when SHE stepped in lastly. Yes, she's among them, but not one of them. Just a guise purchased from the demon merchant Vulgrim for this specific mission. And she can pass as a human under that guise.

But the thought only annoyed her. Strife would laugh hysterically IF he caught her in it.

'Ugh...' She groaned inwardly. 'What a nice way to go...'

* * *

In the Charred Council's realm earlier...

"**What kind of enforcer are you?**" The First Head bellowed.

"_You had let your minion get possessed? _ _How come?_" The Second Head asked.

"**Ignorance! That's what.**"

"_And you insist on continuing with your investigation?_"

"**Bah! What a fool's errand if she will just fail.**"

Fury stood again before the Council, absorbing anything they threw at her, their hurtful remarks just passing on deaf ears. She learned to deal with this kind of situation throughout the centuries, sifting and absorbing only the useful ones while ignoring the rest. Listening on one ear and letting it out of the other, like a rebellious child before her parent's tirade, to her it was quite effective an effective way to deal with them right now.

Now, what the two heads have been fussing about at the moment were apparently the Watcher's report of the incident earlier.

"_Rider, what say you?_"

"Honorable Council..." Fury chose her words carefully. "I do agree with the information relayed to you by the Watcher, having witnessed it firsthand, and won't argue with his statement." She admitted willingly, but grudgingly inside. No point arguing with them over her course of action, unlike War's. The Watchers had been a constant thorn at the Horsemen's sides for as long as she can remember, but being more in the Council's good side, they just ignored them to being a constant fly to the ears. But swallowing one's pride was indeed hard, especially for the Four. But here comes her counter. "However, the Watcher missed an important thing in his report that will justify my 'laxity'."

"_What would that be?_"

"I have encountered a pair of Angels that distracted me."

"**Ha! Just another scapegoat!**"

"It was not a scapegoat, honored Council. For I speak of the truth."

"_But even if you do speak the truth, how can you prove it's not laxity or ignorance on your part?_"

"On my discovery of that black liquid, I admit I had no idea what it was capable of." Sensing no outburst or inquisitive questioning from the Council, she continued. "My first of action was to investigate it up close in hopes of learning its characteristics and in turn clues of its origin, and why it was there in the first place. I tried to touch it, and that's when those Angels appeared and stopped me. I did lowered my guard, but not towards them. My minion apparently touched it by accident, or..."

"_Or what?_"

"Or it slithered to it."

"**Preposterous! You think that thing was sentient?****"**

"I do have a feeling that it had a mind of its own after what happened."

"Perhaps a proper elaboration on the matter should suffice," the Third Head spoke for the first time. "After all, you're trying to justify your actions. Then, by all means, tell us all you knew."

"With your permission, I shall start from the beginning..."

She then proceeded to relay her first-hand account. From the discovery to the eventual defeat of her possessed minion. Her observations on the thing's parasitic abilities followed and her own conclusion on its nature. She theorized that it was not of Demonic origin, mostly from gut feeling. Even though it resembled an 'apportation' or 'Apport' from a demonic manifestation on the Third Kingdom. But it seemed more of something unnamed, something yet to be discovered.

"_About those Angels, do you think you can trust them?_"

"No, I don't trust them a bit. They obviously knew more than what they had told."

"A wise decision. However, you did informed us about a trail of that dark liquid, hadn't you?"

"I did."

"_Aren't you supposed to be tracking it down?_"

"Worry not, honorable Council..." Fury assured them. "For I, along with the shadows, have already found it."


	6. Tracking the prey

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I noticed no one posted a story for Fury, just the romance one in Wattpad. And I noticed that Darksiders 3 game will come out soon, so I decided to make my own story based on Fury's profile. I also did my story's plot in advance as my guide and just think of the situations and conversations later. My second original fic and I hope you liked it. And... Reviews anyone...**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fury of Darksiders, that's THEIR own. However, I did thought about her personality, steed and weapon names, some of her abilities, the timeline, and some OCs BEFORE I have read any of the posts about her steed's name or her abilities from the Darksiders communities on the net...**

**- And on later parts you may read some familiar characters... Remember... they're NOT mine, just Borrowed...**

**Oops, sorry for this short piece...**

* * *

**VI**

Snapping back from the thought of Strife's laughter if he saw her in this situation, Fury forced a sweet smile form on her lips. A smile. A rare instance as she barely, to never, see any of her brothers do the honour of smiling. Death and Strife do smiles a bit, even cackle maniacally, but were masked all the time, embarrassed? Hell if she knew. And War, even though unmasked, wore his eternal scowl that never wishes to go away. With all that, she decided to go with the flow. At the moment, it's all that she needed to keep under wraps and gain more information.

The rest of the harlots have settled with random men or were pulled out from their file. Fury meanwhile, glanced around, looking at those lustful eyes ogling at her body. Among the men as she noticed, one stood out, not because of any unique physical features or fanciful clothing.

He was clad, like the others, in his _Chain Hauberk_ (chainmail jacket) underneath his Templar tunic, _Sabaton_ and _Greaves_ on his legs, bracers, and with his _Mail_ _Coif_ (Chainmail hood) still on. He held around his right arm his Great Helm, and his left hand settling on his sword's pommel. Even though his peers already stripped down to their because of his immunity to feminine charms. Anyone can be disciplined enough to ward off temptation.

No, what tipped her off was the man's blank expression, like he was already dead inside. Just an empty shell, controlled by puppet strings. And the unmistakable stench around him, as her advanced senses allowed her to pick up that scent earlier.

The man approached the pompous host and leaned close to his ears, whispering something. To her chagrin, filtering their conversation proved hard enough with all the noises around her: the harlots' giggles and yelps, the men's booming laughter, and other noises. Definitely noisy for her liking. However, she learned one thing admittedly from the female humans, which can extract information from the subject without torture. An unnecessary scene was all she needed to blow her cover.

The men's eyes followed her sexy body as she made her way towards the host, gently pushing aside a man who stood in the way, then winked at him seductively. Turning her attention back to the host, she leaned forward to whisper to his ear.

"I am an agent of the Hashashin Order... I and others are in this very chamber just waiting for the right time to strike..." Her words paled the fat man, slightly backing away in shock. He opened his mouth to speak but she quickly, and gently, pushed up his chin. "Hush... You do know your guards can't do anything to rescue you when I'm only very close to you right?" That's not a question, but a statement of fact. "And believe me when I said that I can end your life here and now, and slip out quietly without raising an alarm. But I won't do that..."

"Wh-what do you want?" The host stuttered.

"Firstly..." She put her arm around his neck, pulling him closer and leaning on an adjacent wall behind her. She pulled his hands to her hips, and rested her left leg around his waist. She could see that her actions earned the men's murderous glares directed solely to the fat little man in front of her with pure envy, and that fact amused her more. Ah, humans. Raising his face with her free hand, their eyes locking together, she smiled even more sweetly. "Smile for me..."

The fat man was confused, bot obliged right away. He realized her eyes have mesmerizing effects, her charms getting into him despite all his fears. He reluctantly forced a smile as was ordered as he spoke in a hesitant voice. "A-and the second?"

Fury chuckled. "You amuse me, mortal. We have been watching you closely, being friends with them, but we need information. Either you give us what we want or die miserably like those before you." She rubbed his back deliberately, watching the men redirecting their frustrations to the harlots sitting next to them. They ripped the women's scarce clothing in rage then proceeded to ravish them in a hungry way, earning shrieks and moans of pleasure. Then in the end, they had enjoyed themselves in the women's company. "Now..." Her tone became serious. "I need to know what that Templar Knight from earlier had informed you... And I need to know it now..."

"H-he only sa-said som-something," he stammered.

"And that would be?" She raised an eyebrow, motioning him to continue.

"I cannot quite get what he meant, he was speaking in his tongue..."

"But can you repeat his every word?"

"I'll try..."

* * *

Fury walked along the lonely stretch of the alley on her trail of the mysterious Knight, trusting in her senses to track him down. The pompous host have been very generous earlier, as it only took her a few kind words and a talon to his throat for him to spill as much information as she needed. And it took a nerve pinch to his neck to knock him out cold. He will have no idea what had happened by the time his consciousness comes back to him. Now, she's on a trail for her next lead.

According to the fat host, the Knights have ordered an excavation done at the nearby mountainside without any further explanation. Their intention entirely under the rugs. Even he had wondered what they would have wished to uncover there. The undertaking was led by a monk - not a normal occurrence because of the Crusader's martial authority on the battlefield over the Church's. Strange even, having the power to command a small group to his bidding without any objections from the Templar Order as a whole. Like someone is controlling the strings secretly.

The full moon hovered in the sky, the daytime _Simoom _(dry and hot desert wind) was replaced by the cool night breeze. No other souls were out this time of night as decreed by the Crusaders. The streets were empty, except for the occasional roving city guards armed with torches, patrolling in twos or in groups. The silence of the night was being broken by the pounding of boots and the sounds of nocturnal animals prowling outside the city walls. Just another typical night in the city.

From her position, she could hear the clanking sound of Sabatons on the hard ground, emanating from around the bend ahead of her. Along with that familiar scent accompanying it. She had tracked down her prey. Melding easily with the shadows, she waited as the sounds came closer, close enough at about three feet from her hiding place. From there, she could see the man earlier, being lit by the torchlight. His eyes were looking directly ahead with the same emptiness, never a side glance as he walked steadily ahead until he disappeared from sight around another bend ahead. She cautiously emerged from her hiding place, peering around for good measure before following her quarry.

"Who goes there!" A powerful voice broke the silence. She peered ahead and saw two city guards drew close to her quarry, with their swords already half-sheathed. Great. Just someone getting in the way. She knew she can't dispatch the two in plain sight, as that would alarm the man of threats around him. And who knew who else were watching. All she could do is wait.

To her relief, the Knight spoke in his French accent. "Stand down. It's just me."

"Oh, sorry about that..." One said. Both then secured their swords. "Just keep your eyes peeled, who knows when those infidels, those Moors will attack." They then passed him by, patting him on the shoulder.

"I will..." The man replied as he watched the two leave. He just stood there for a few more minutes, then went on his way.

Looking up the rooftops, she could see the archers dozing off, others still alert but chose to ignore the other members of their faction on the ground below who, in their mind, were just out for a late night stroll or out patrolling. A good thing for her.

From her earlier reconnaissance of the entire city, she noticed that it was built upon the ruins of a previous civilization. Ancient stone arches and pillars still stood sturdy through the years against weathering. Holes resembling doorways were carved into the rock wall, along with visible staircases and other pathways. The most prominent feature, although defaced, was a huge figure resembling a man having the wings, tail and legs of a bird on the lower part of the body, sculptured on bare rock just above a gateway. Clearly a previous place of worship, a temple carved out of the very rock wall, dedicated and belonging to the lost religion of Zoroastrianism, the religion that flourished in the ancient times. But now, a city was built below the ruins in the lower levels, with the previous temple now used as garrison and command center for the Templars. And that was the place the Knight was walking into.

Moments had passed by, and four other Knights in total joined the first, with the same blank expressions and zombie-like demeanor. All clad in the same armour as the first, all in the same Order. She followed the group until they reached the base of the old temple-turned-command center, empty and silently still. The torches left around lit up the standards of the Templar Order hanging from the walls or connected to some poles sticking from the ground, the light emphasizing the spiky cruxes on each standard. A few stood guard, alert or just like the other, dozing off. The group arrived at their intended destination and she could see a lone figure standing at the base of the staircase leading up to the doorway above, dressed in a monk's robe with a rope fastened around his waist, and a hood covering his head. The group stopped before him, eyes staring blankly to the figure's hooded face, waiting for any order. She had also stopped about twenty feet away and melded with the shadows, awaiting for the group's next actions. The hooded monk gazed at each member in silence before turning around and proceeded to climb the stairs to the top, with the five Knights walking after him in silence. The guards chose to ignore them, somewhat also taken aback by the silence.

Taking the initiative, the Rider leapt around and above the guards, entering the same doorway into the complex the group had entered earlier. This is getting interesting by the minute.


	7. Rite of Ascension

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I noticed no one posted a story for Fury, just the romance one. And I noticed that Darksiders 3 game will come out soon, so I decided to make my own story based on Fury's profile. I also did my story's plot in advance as my guide and just think of the situations and conversations later. My second original fic and I hope you liked it. And... Reviews anyone...**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fury of Darksiders, that's THEIR own. However, I did thought about her personality, steed and weapon names, some of her abilities, the timeline, and some OCs BEFORE I have read any of the posts about her steed's name or her abilities from the Darksiders communities on the net...**

**Oops... Discovered conflict in timeline so I decided to revise the plot a little... And mental block getting to me... I'll just wait for ideas to pop in my head...**

* * *

**VII**

The group, now including the hooded monk, walked through the intricate maze inside the earthwork complex and the tunnels, as she noticed, were literally carved from the very rock around it. Time had taken its toll in the tunnels, some had already caved-in and rendered inaccessible and some boarded up for whatever reasons they were boarded up in the first place. Wrought iron braziers hung up on the walls, but years of unuse resulted for the charcoals to be unlitable due to dirt or moisture. The tunnels were located deep in the earth, underneath the vast halls that were used as a place of worship by the old religion.

Fury also noticed, as they passed the way they came from, that the stone floor was quite polished, no dust settled for a long time unlike the other parts of the tunnels. The stone ceiling were covered with the black remnants of spider webs, evidently singed and blackened by the torches the humans have used to lit up the path as they go about their business in these tunnels, and quite recent too. The tunnel walls were scratched with something sharp, while some even completely holed either by accident or deliberate actions. And as she followed suite, she felt this maze was built by whoever had built it to confuse intruders, to throw them in panic and confusion as they realized their mistake of entering. As if something was being kept beyond it, deemed unfit to see the light of day. A question presented itself, was this made by the old religion of Zoroastrianism? Or were there something more to it than meets the eyes?

The answers will not present itself here but beyond. And she's willing to uncover the truth of these humans' involvement. And about the stench she had been smelling since the Knight earlier, she was now sure that it also included all the other Knights. The scent of the black liquid before. But why is it on them?

The group finally got out of that hellish maze into a wide opening facing a wall with a circular stone gate. The stone gate in question was perfectly aligned with the very wall that it was close to being one with it, but not to an observer's eye. Slight indentations on the surface were slightly visible to the naked eye, making out a double circle with an inverted pentagram inside, along with some runes also carved outside the pentagram's angles. All the time, she had been feeling a powerful presence while still in those tunnels, which only got stronger in this area. Demon? Maybe a powerful one if it was.

"Open it," the hooded monk spoke in a deep, almost growling, unearthly voice.

The Knights began to push against the stone gate as the monk watched while holding the torch. Within seconds, nothing really had happened, only the huffs and grunts as the five struggled. Their patience paid off as the stone gate slowly gave way, making a grating sound as it was pushed inwards. A gap appeared around it which slowly widened up to about a foot wide, then it wouldn't budge anymore. The one at the side put an arm around the gate's edge and pushed, the others mimicking his action and soon were rolling the gate from the side. At last the stone gate had been removed from their path, the monk led the way inside unobstructed by anything.

Fury's word for the chamber she was now in when she followed inside, was 'Cavernous'. The chamber seemed like a part of a natural cave which can be some type of Primary Cave system, evident by the natural rock formations, _Speleothems_, caused by water drips found inside. The chamber was filled with _Dripstones_, ranging from _Stalactites_to _Chandeliers;_ and from the simple _Stalagmites_to some _Columns_around the edges. The only odd thing for a full cave was its flat surface which spanned for about a thousand feet, along with four _Totem Pole Stalagmites_ that seemed to have grown from the very floor, located in the middle. Adding to the word of 'odd' was a strange stone platform in between the four Totem poles as the only thing that kept them apart. And all were made visible by the monk's torch held up high.

The monk approached a stone bowl near the entrance, connected to a long, but short, double walls of stone acting as an aqueduct for some kind of liquid. He touched the torch's flaming scone to the bowl, resulting in it bursting aflame, the flames travelling around the chamber near the walls and surrounding the chamber in bright lights.

That's when she noted the central platform had a somewhat slightly concave shape, and that it had been engraved with the same inverted pentagram sigil, inside a double circle connected to its points, but with runes in ancient demonic carved around it. The star's points had shallow circular indentations, connected to the grooves that also made up the star's lines, crisscrossing one another to form a hollowed out pentagon in the middle, which is slightly lower than the edges due to its concavity. Five smaller stone pillars stood outside of each of the pentagon's angles, each with a bracket connected near the top.

The four towering stalagmites, as she had noticed until now, were not quite as they seemed to be. Each had a bracket near the top as the smaller stone pillars, but these do have a load. With spiked chains as both restraint and support, a spiked wrought iron spherical cage hung high above the circle platform below, their correlation with each other, she had yet to know. In that same cage was a figure of, as far as she could see from her hiding place, a winged being, shackled fast to it. That and the very strong stench of that black liquid.

So, as far as she goes, she had tracked down her quarry into a hundred feet underground. Her mission was practically fulfilled, having found the source of the corrupting liquid mass and learning of its condition. But then, something still nagged at her inwardly. Something's not right. Especially with what those humans are into. That, and her curiosity gnawed at her from inside.

The group made their way onto the stone platform and positioning themselves on their designated places in it; the monks positioning himself on the pentagon and the five Knights positioning on the star's points. The five started to strip off their armors down to their waist, tossing it out of the circle. The monk started to chant in his deep voice in the pentagon all the while.

"SUBINRAC ROTCUDES..."

"**SUBINRAC ROTCUDES...**" The five followed in chorus.

The monk raised his head and proceeded to uncover his face with shrivelled hands. The monk's features were now visible to the naked eye. He had _Tonsure_ for his hairstyle, worn as a sign of humility or religious devotion, and served as a symbol of his renunciation of worldly things. Well, not until now it seemed. He had a long facial frame, grey eyes and an aquiline type of nose. And he also had that emptiness that the five all shared.

"TE SAMINA IPICED..."

"**TE SAMINA IPICED...**"

Their chanting grew louder and began to reverberate across the cavernous chamber. The monk reached inside his robe and brought out a dagger, raising it above his head, the blade glinting as it reflected the flames' light.

"TE EROURC..."

"**TE EROURC...**"

Fury winced inwardly, as if she can feel the pain, when the monk suddenly thrusted the dagger's point deep in the skin of his forehead. Blood flowed down the bridge of his nose and to his eyes as he began to carve an inverted pentagram, not even registering the pain it caused.

"DES TIBACAV EUQSBA APLUC..."

"**DES TIBACAV EUQSBA APLUC...**"

The five then brought out their own _Misericorde_ sheathed on their belts, then raised it high, just like the monk earlier. These Misericordes, or Mercygivers, were used as a Knight's own personal death-giver should they be seriously wounded on the battlefield. It has a long and thin blade that can pass through the gaps of the armor to pierce the body underneath. Now it was being used in some profane ritual of the demonic type. They then carved their own pentagrams on their foreheads, shutting out the pain.

"SUBINRAC ROTCUDES, TE SAMINA IPICED TE EROURC, DES TIBACAV EUQSBA APLUC!"

With that, he brought the dagger to his stomach, then fell to his knees quite still alive. The Knights also raised their own daggers at the same time.

"**SUBINRAC****ROTCUDES, TE SAMINA IPICED TE EROURC, DES TIBACAV EUQSBA APLUC!**"

Grunts of pain escaped from their mouths as they too fell on their weapons, but in the heart this time. Their bodies fell one after the other, producing loud thuds as they hit the ground. Their blood began to pool on the indentations underneath their body as it was emptied from their corpses. The blood began to flow into the grooves of the circle, filling first the inner then the outer circle, their collective bloods intermingling with the others'. It then flowed towards the pentagon indentation in the center, filling it to the rim.

The blood works in the circle suddenly glowed crimson bright as the still breathing monk continued to chant by himself. Odd things happen one after another, but not abnormal in her world, as she had witnessed the blood began to flow upwards as if some powers made them 'alive'. It reached to the monk's self-inflicted wound in his stomach then chose to enter it.

She could see the monk's pale face started to get redder by the second, as well as notice his whole body began to bloat in a grotesque manner, pushing outward his robe. He let out a groan, shuddered, and then began to convulse violently. He doubled over then went on all fours, as his body contorted in ways impossible for a human body. His robes started to tear against his bulging body, ripping it apart at the seams until it was completely in shreds. The sounds of bones being broken and rearranged became audible, his spine pushing outwards against his skin as two distinct bumps pushed outwards behind each shoulders, and growing by the minute.

His body began to change shape; bones reforming and getting thicker inside; muscles forming over bones and bundling together; and the body gradually growing in size. His arms hardened with muscles as bony claws erupted from his fingertips. His legs rearranging to resemble that of any quadruped creature's hind legs, as his feet turned to hooves. His tailbone, _Coccyx_, erupted from his rear, the bone dividing in two serpentine ones sporting a fanged pair of mandibles each. His skull elongated, the upper and lower jaw narrowing as they did, and his teeth being replaced by cuspids. Two new protrusions grew from his crown above each eye and continued erupting from his skin: a pair of twisted horns that resembled a goat's. From his back sprouted a pair of leathery bat-like wings in a shower of blood, and by then, the blood was emptied from the floor.

Standing on its hooves, the newly-formed demon let out a loud roar that reverberated from the chamber to the maze of tunnels. A demon had been reborn, in blood.

Fury had read the ancient demonic runes around the circle beforehand but still processing its meaning, then it came to her.

"With the flesh of the Deceiver, with the souls of those Deceived and the blood of the enemy, He shall be free..."


	8. Angel Trap

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I noticed no one posted a story for Fury, just the romance one in Wattpad. And I noticed that Darksiders 3 game will come out soon, so I decided to make my own story based on Fury's profile. I also did my story's plot in advance as my guide and just think of the situations and conversations later. My second original fic and I hope you liked it. And... Reviews anyone...**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fury of Darksiders, that's THEIR own. However, I did thought about her personality, steed and weapon names, some of her abilities, the timeline, and some OCs BEFORE I have read any of the posts about her steed's name or her abilities from the Darksiders communities on the net...**

**- And on later parts you may read some familiar characters... Remember... they're NOT mine, just Borrowed...**

**Oops, sorry for this short piece...**

* * *

**VIII**

The demon now stood on his hooves at the size of two and a half men combined, currently busy releasing his rage through his roar. His features greatly resembled that of a goatman's: having a goat's head atop a muscular upper torso, a perfectly sculptured frame that the ancient Greco-Roman civilizations had adored the most; a pair of hind legs with black fur that ended in hooves, with the now tattered remains of the monk's robes now dangling from his waist and covering his groin area; with the exception, however, of a pair of writhing mandibled bony tails and a pair of leathery bat wings. And on top of it all was the floating tongue of yellow flame above its head.

The roaring ended shortly after. The demon gazed around with pitch black eyes, assessing the surrounding for any threats. It cannot sense her fortunately for she was an expert in hiding her presence to anyone. Having done its assessment, it began to walk out of the pentagon to freedom. She wants to do something but can't think of any. A demon like this should not be set loose as who knows what it can do. She wishes she could think of something, anything, just to seal this beast back. Scanning the entire chamber, she could not think of anything usable, but her focus centred at the five bracketed pillars just outside of the pentagon. Well, what are those for?

Her questions were answered a second later. Not a even a hoof out of the pentagon's edges when the five pillars abruptly flashed a bright golden light that drowned out the surrounding lights. Bright azure Angelic runes appeared on the pillars' surfaces from top to bottom. The demon brought its arms up to shield its eyes when it felt cold metal strapped around its wrist, and tugging it forcefully backwards. It growled in frustration as a cuss escaped its mouth.

**"Sac'idep? T'nacid'elam silegna!"**

It growled in a deep guttural voice, and in a language she could understand. It's one of those tongues so ancient that it had predated even the creation of the Third Kingdom. The language first used by their kind after their creation. And she translated it as:

'A trap? Damn Angels!'

It glanced at its wrist and sure enough, discovered a runed manacle of Angelic origin linked by a golden chain to one of the pillars. It tried to pull at it with its other hand, only to be yanked away by another manacle, leaving him stretched out. Two others dashed towards the legs, with chains rattling in their wake, then clamped around both ankles. Five more chains flew towards it, linked with a piece of a five-piece collar each. All pieces connected themselves around its neck, internal locks clinked as it rotated in a fixed position, Angelic runes welding the locks in place. And the more it struggled, the more the chains restrained it.

'_Poor thing_,' she thought. _'Though I should commend those Angels for their forethought.'_

Her thought was disrupted by the demon's roar. But his roar was more of an order. Looking up to the cage above where the demon was looking at, she discovered that the being inside the cage - her prey and the reason of her quest - was still alive. She couldn't detect life earlier for the reason that her attention was focused at the group, and now she was certain of that fact. It was an Angel with black wings, which would be categorized as one of the Fallen - Angels who fell from grace. She could now see black veins on the side of his neck extending to his eyes, which was greying from the former white ones, and ruffled hair as black as his wings. The way the demon was roaring in an ordering tone, it seemed like it was directed to this Angel. But why would it be ordering one of its nemesis? And how and why should the latter comply even if he can?

She was scanned the make of the cage. She had noted earlier that it was made of iron, painstakingly constructed by human hands, obvious by its crude features, but guided under an inhuman mind, which she guess was a demon's. It was spiked on the outside, but she could also see spikes in the inside protruding vertically downwards, probably used to torture the prisoner. Inside were a basin-like flooring on which the Angel now lays, five identical tubes protruding from underneath and aligned perfectly above each of the Angelic pillars below. Something was amiss here. She just knew it.

Suddenly, the demon's sigils appeared on the underside of the cage and along its sides. The air was suddenly filled with the pained moans from the being as the spikes inside crashed down through his body. Seconds later, bright red blood dripped from the tubes to the pillars below, resulting in a series of chain reaction. As more dripped and pattered on the pillars, the blood flowed on the azure Angelic runes and snuffed them out, like a candle flame snuffed out by the wind.

'_That was new_', she thought.

The Angel blood was doing its work, undoing the magic that strengthens the chains, turning it to plain iron. The demon began to pull again, this time the iron chain breaking a weak link then finally snapped to pieces. The blood drops now became trickles, quickening the magic dispelling process. Now, all pillars were depowered of magic which quickly travelled towards the shackles and collars, like a wildfire engulfing a last circular portion of dry prairie grass. Now this did alarmed her, knowing full well that the Angels' contingency plan was already ruined. Throwing caution to the wind, she dashed out from her hiding place.

The demon, having already wrenched the collar from around its neck, noticed the Rider's approach. It snapped the last of the chains then swung them at her. Fury had anticipated this move, throwing the nearest thing, or what's already in its grasp to an incoming threat. She promptly dodged and ducked at the incoming projectiles with agile movements. Seeing her still on her feet, the demon heaved one of the chains still attached to one of the pillars, swung it above his head then released it flying at her. Meeting it head on, she lashed out to clear the way. An honest mistake. As the whip moved to connect to it, she caught the demon's movements as it raised its right arm pointedly at her, a crimson glow pulsating on its arm. The whip and the rubble connected, exploding as a result instead of the pillar to be in pieces.

She was thrown by the force against the nearby stone column then dropped to the hard floor. Slightly dazed, she got to her feet quickly, and her attention focused at the demon. Something like that would have killed any humans, but she's not a human, just a resilient one. The demon was now freed, again, with rubbles around it. It was just staring at its right arm with angry eyes, just like someone whose expectation had failed them.

"**It'neiruse...**" It began. "**Oge mus...sunui'ei!**"

"Oh great, it's hungry..." She stated flatly.

"**ECSAP EM!**" It bellowed, the noise resonating against the chamber walls.

"And needed to be fed. Now it's having a tantrum. Just great..."

* * *

White City...

An Archangel sat by his oaken desk, elbows resting on it with both hands clasped before him and deep in thought inside his not so spacious office, with tomes, parchments, scrolls, inkpots and a container of writing brushes sat before him. His long swords lay in its scabbard leaning on the side of the desk, the place it normally was on in times of peace. He had already read all of the reports written on the parchments many times over but just couldn't focus on it. Some things just kept his mind occupied.

He swept his gaze around the room, taking in all the details like it's just his first time seeing them even though he had this room for over five hundred years now. The chamber was a square one; with white walls covered in painting and woodcarving depicting the Great War between the two Kingdoms; cerulean hued ceiling where hung was a chandelier with gems of Ruby, Emerald and Amethysts; pillars of gold carved meticulously; and a double door made of Diamond. His gaze stopped upon his old and battered full armour fitted on a dummy at the corner of the room, just besides the doorway. Its battle scars seemed just fresh out of the battle every time he looked at it, the memories he had at the time he was still a soldier still fresh in his mind and not yet faded with time. It had constantly reminded him of those comrades lost in their war against the demons of the Second Kingdom, and the sacrifices that were made. He'd give anything just to return things as it was before. But he knew he could not return time even if he wished it to. He deeply wished he could.

His thoughts were cut short as a familiar yet terrible sensation hit him like lightning and nostalgia swept in his mind. He can't quite believe he would be feeling this kind of dread again after so many centuries. That only meant that one of their old enemies, one who had slaughtered his friends and comrades long ago, had resurfaced or had been freed from its prison.

"Guards!"

A pair of Angelic guards welding their halberds pushed open the double doors and rushed into the room, snapping a salute before him.

"Waiting for orders, Sir!" Both snapped.

"Summon my lieutenant. Scour the White City if you have to. And be quick."

"Yes sir!" Snapping a salute, they were about to leave when a voice cut through them from behind.

"There's no need my lord", the voice drew closer as both guards made way. "I have arrived. What would be your orders?"

"Go and gather all our best warriors. We are going into the Third Kingdom as soon as possible. A powerful demon had set its foot again in that place." He then got to his feet and gathered his sword, clasping it onto his belt.

"The Third Kingdom, my Lord? Can't we just send words to all patrol units stationed down there?"

Confusion fell on the air.

"No! They won't stand a chance at all. They will be destroyed in mere seconds!"

"But my Lord, the Charred Council had-"

"The Council be damned! They would only ponder endlessly before being able to send a Rider to do their bidding. We must act quickly!"

"Alright, my Lord. But if I may ask, who was this demon you're talking about?"

"Believe me, you wouldn't want to know…"

* * *

Fury observed what would happen next. The demon managed to free itself on its own using the humans, fended her attacks, and now what? It's just hungry and want to eat just like that? No. Something was definitely up. Her eyes caught the crimson hue of the sigil etched on its forehead, pulsating like a beacon attracting something or signalling for something to happen.

A white light having the silhouette of an upright being suddenly passed before her, a spirit. A human spectre, a soul of the dead. It shrank to a light orb as it approached the demon, seemed to be drawn to it by something. A crimson light emanated from it, catching her eyes, watching as it became a pentagram sigil. Now, it had dawned to her, these 'marked' souls are his food. Another soul appeared after another, all drawn to it.

"The souls of the deceived?"


	9. The Souls of the Deceived

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for the reviews... really appreciated it... Now back to business... **

**DISCLAIMER:**

**- Don't own Darksiders characters and don't want to own them...**

**- Some characters may be familiar to you from other fanfics but I'm telling you, they're NOT MINE... That's why I didn't write their individual names...**

* * *

**IX**

A hundred miles away...

A pale woman gazed around her, charcoal-black eyes took in the scene of the surroundings without emotions. Smoke still lingered above the field, like a dark cloud gathering above and ready to release its purifying rain upon the dying plants on the ground. Desolation. And total annihilation. Bodies everywhere, both of men and beasts. Strewn around without abandon, weapons and discarded armours lay trampled and broken, war machines toppled on flames and all destroyed; as well as the stench of death and decay, the iron scent of blood, the howls of carrion beasts and the calls of the carrion birds. A massive battle had been waged here; no winners, all losers. A waste of human lives. The woman, however, can't care less.

She then strode forward slowly with nothing for footwear; she don't need one as her feet hadn't even touched the ground. The night wind met her, caressing her pale skin while blowing against her white tunic, and billowing her long black hair against the black feathers on her wings. The Angel of Death for the Third Kingdom have arrived to collect the souls of the fallen. Hundreds of spirits, all fallen in battle, stood still hovering over their earthly bodies; just awaiting for the call to go into the Light. They stood with blank expressions, watching as the Angel approached, no idea what to expect.

The Angel paused at a distance, then waved her arms, creating a circular portal white glow before her into the Land of the Dead; white glow emanated from the other side, radiating a warm and welcoming feeling. Contrary to belief, the Land of the Dead is the first step for a soul on the road to the Well of Souls. It is the place where they were judged, weighted and punished for their past deeds. The Angel then turned and faced the throngs of spirits being drawn to the light, who were clad in armours of their own, their last garments the minute their spirits left their bodies. She smiled at them as she lifted her small hand then beckoned.

"Come..." She invited in a soft voice. "Let me give you rest."

Slowly, the mood of the souls lightened; smiles of joy forming upon their lips, contentment flowing into their core. They felt at peace as they passed through the portal, feeling their personal burdens being lifted from their shoulders, and knowing that their work, their struggles, on this Earth were done.

The Angel of Death smiled to herself, a rare occasion even for her, as she watched the souls pass through the portal. She had gone through a lot, casting away her role as the Angel of Death once and hurting her father's feelings, prompting the Council of the White City to take action. But things have changed now. The Angelic High Council pardoned her for her past actions when she declared she will take the mantle of the Angel of Death once again; well, they can try to catch her and bring punishment if they can lay a hand on her, literally. Now, she can no longer deal with the souls on her own, now that her love one was now by her side for eternity. She turned around and smiled at a male Angel with greying hair and wings, who returned a smile in kind.

Her smile, however, faded away as she glimpsed at a few souls, actually hundreds of them, just standing still on their spots. Their faces blank, not drawn to the light unlike the others. She flew to them but they just stared at her form as she approached. These souls, she noticed, were those not from these lands; those who have died on alien soil. And to her horror, they were all marked with the sigil of a demon branded on their foreheads. The inverted pentagram sigil.

"Spirits, what's wrong? Why won't you follow the others?"

"We..." A spirit of a warrior with a grey beard answered. "...can't." He spoke with a weary tone, struggling with each word.

"What do you mean you can't? The Light is for everyone."

"No... You don't... understand... We can't... enter the... Light... We just... can't..."

"Why?"

"We don't... know why... But... there's a... voice..."

"What voice?" She can now feel panic building up inside her. Her male companion noticed this in her voice and flew over besides her, squeezing her hand for assurance. "Whose voice is it?"

"We... don't know... who... But it... said... we must... wait..."

"Wait for what?"

"For the... others..."

At that, she suddenly felt a sensation of dread wash over her. She turned to look at her mate and by the look in his eyes, she could tell that he felt it too. They then noticed all of the 'marked' spirits turn their heads and gazed at the horizon; they concluded it must be where the source of that dread they had felt. The spokesman spirit turned to them as the rest started to march towards the direction they were facing, slowly fading in the air.

"We have... to go... The voice... It's calling us... now... It is saying... that it's... time..." He bade them then proceeded to march alongside the others.

"Wha- Wait!" The Angel of Death called out. "You can't leave!" But her call fell to deaf ears as the spirits paid her no heed and continued to march. She turned to her lover. "This is bad, my love."

"It is, and we must report this to the White City immediately." The male replied.

"We can't. We're still wanted by the High Council, remember?"

"Yes..." He sighed. "We still are. But what about them?" He pointed at the unmarked souls behind them, which still numbered by the hundreds. "We can't just leave them here. They'll be lost if you close the portal."

"I know, my love. But I have an idea." She flexed her black wings behind her. 'I will deal with that matter, but you must follow them."

"I will." He smiled sweetly, then took off after the departing souls.

The Angel of Death then glided in the air and descended at a considerable distance from the first portal. She waved her hands again like earlier, and this time, a number of the glowing portals opened up; enough to accommodate all of the souls in the vicinity. She hoped it will speed up the moving over of the souls.

'Just what is going on?'

* * *

Fury prepared her whip while watching the demon began to feast on the 'marked' souls. It grabbed one then stuck it directly to its mouth, shoving another after that. She could her the souls' anguish, their pained screams as they slid down its mouth, but can't do anything. It seemed it completely ignored her presence at the time being. It then stared intently at the metals lying around as the flame on its head extended, landing on the said metals and melting them; the molten metal burning red hot flowing and pooling before it, moulding them by sheer will into a crude but huge war axe, resembling a _Lochaber Axe_ of the Scottish people of the Third Kingdom. Watching it gobbling down those souls meant one thing - it meant she had to take the demon down before it can regain its former strength before it was sealed to the point of invincibility. And that means now.

She dashed forward, followed by shadows darting by her side. From these shadows emerged her dogs, awaiting her orders. With an arm motion, one moved ahead of them, the creature diving towards the demon then turned to spike - a solid one -in a spinning corkscrew motion. Sparks flew as the demon brought up its axe and blocking the attack with the weapon's flat side. The other beast leapt out, aiming for the throat but was quickly crushed by its left hand with a ground-shattering strike. Both creatures then regressed back to shadows.

The demon caught sight of the approaching Rider after the initial assault; with some physical exertion, it willed its bony tails to elongate, writhing and gaping as they travelled towards her. Both were met with the searing heat from Justice head on, its flame burning deeply, making them retract quickly; like jerking one's hand from a beast's snapping jaws. The demon roared in frustration, raised the axe and rushed forward, its hooves thudding against stone then brought the axe in a downward strike. She darted out of the way, leaping high enough to deliver a slash to its face. It brought up its left arm to block Justice's strike, however the whip wound around it instead, propelling the Rider close enough, delivering an aerial spinning back kick to the back of its head and knocking it forward. It avoided colliding with the ground only with the help of the weapon in hand. In a last minute execution, she closed in their gap and reached out with her taloned left hand, scratching the sigil on its forehead.

Sigils tend to be defaced easily, a simple scratch that can break any lines or figures in it can permanently destroy its purpose. And here, with the demon's sigil defaced, the marked spirits stopped on their tracks as their mark faded away, their dazed expressions slowly being replaced by confusion and horror; seeing the demon's form did the latter to them. They then turned around and fled in droves to anywhere just to escape the horror before them, passing back through solid stone walls.

"**Et t'niu'drep!** (Damn you!)"

It roared as a hand reached out to rub the singed forehead. Gritting its sharp teeth, it realized it can no longer absorb souls to replenish its once lost energy, throwing a murderous glare at her.

"**Odomo'uq cou da em sedua! **(How dare you do this to me!)"

"Eneb, o'eg sutusu'i ticef... (Well, I just did...)" She replied flatly.

"**Orp ox'af do'uq sirecef! **(I'll make you pay for what you've done!)

"Cis rute'diu... (So it seems...)" With that, she dashed forward for another attack.

* * *

** To find out who they are, read: "Take these wings" by Aragem... Who inspired me to try writing my own when I read the story.**

**"...if you did not write it yourself, you must give credit." - Plagiarism on Wikipedia**

**- I just did, didn't I? ^^**


	10. An Angel's Resolve

**A/N: **An alternative title can be :** "Rambulan sa langit" **

**hehe...**

* * *

**X**

The Gates of Heaven...

The Archangel creased his eyebrows as he gazed ahead of him, he never had expected this surprise. . His plan to lead his force down to the Third Kingdom spread like wildfire, feeding gossip into the minds of some, appreciation to others, suspicion and resentment for most. He knew he was not the most unpopular Angel in the White City; he is the infamous one for his known defiance against the High Council when the matter is against the Demons, but the higher-ups chose to let it pass as he is still an important asset Heaven ever had. But the imposing figures at the Heaven's Gates says otherwise, and he had to ask them himself; the thought in mind as he flew towards them. Now even currently clad in his golden ornate heavy armor, he was still light enough; flapping his white wings to propel himself in the air, with the wind billowing against his blue robe and silver hair.

He already knew who these Angels are just by looking at them even from his distance, but what bothered and confused him was the very reason why they were all armed to the teeth. The only time they came out in this matter was when the Rider War caused such trouble the last time he visited, and that was a dire situation indeed. But here they are, taking up arms as if the very Gates of Heaven was under attack; to make matters more complicated, the Horns of War hadn't been sounded since the last hundred years, an indication of peace. So, any reasons as to why they were called out were not privy to him.

The figures in question were all clad in their full battle armors of gold or burnished brass, beneath pure white robes, all not a tad different from the Hellguards except for the cloth colors. Their wing color ranging from azure to light golden ones, and all armed with weapons of their own preference; ranging from bows, swords, spears, polearms, and hammers to pure magic. Mostly were males with the minority of the females, but all were unargueably experienced warriors and veterans of their own right; the elite in their field. They are the chosen ones to have the honor of protecting the entirety of the White City, as the Hellguards are the experts in hunting Demons; the White Army.

An Archangel clad in thick ornate armor plates of pure gold from head to toe and matching white robe served as the army's leader. He had a pair of golden wings with azure feather tips, bent behind a golden halo which in turn was behind his head; signifying a rather high ranking in the White City's political hierarchy. Strapped to a belt around his hips was a sheathed sword and a sheathed dagger, along with some scrolls and a tome of the _Codex Bellum_, the law of Heaven. It was he who passes judgement to those who was proven to break Heaven's laws of their own volition, the Archangel of Justice. The Archangel Zarathos.

The Archangel descended to the ground to meet with Zarathos, his curiosity welling inside him, followed by his lieutenant and the warhost under his command. His lieutenant had gathered all warriors from the simple footsoldier Angel to the Angel Champions, from Angel archers to the elite ones wielding the _Salvation _and_ Redemption Cannons. _Some Angel Casters also joined their ranks, and so were some of the Angelic Beast Riders. All have answered his call to arms without question. He approached the White Army on his own with his head held high, surely this was only a misunderstanding, if there's any. He attempted to smile when the Archangel of Justice raised a bracered hand before him, his palm motioning him to stop. This surprised him as he didn't clearly expected this.

"Halt!" Zarathos bade him to stop, locking with his shocked eyes through the slits of his helmet.

"What is this?" The Archangel demanded an answer, as confusion fell upon his followers behind him who kept glancing at one another.

"Under orders from the Angelic High Council, you are to abort your planned descent to the Third Kingdom and to disperse your forces present immediately. Fight back, and we will be forced to arrest you and charge you with treason." Zarathos announced.

"Stand aside!" the Archangel retorted. "You don't know what you're doing!"

"Don't do this..." Zarathos spoke in a pleading but stern voice. "Please..."

"No!" He replied sternly in kind. "My resolve is set and I will do this with or without you blocking our path. Now stand aside, or I have to cut you down myself!"

The Archangel of Justice sighed in defeat. He just have to do this the hard way then. "You know I can't, old friend. Don't say I didn't warned you..."

"You did. But you can't make me stand down either, and you have to cut me down first in order to take me in."

"So be it, old friend..."

"Yes, it is..." He replied. "Old friend..."

The scream of metal became audible between them as the Archangel of Justice unsheathed his sword out of its scabbard. It was a golden _Broadsword_ with a groove running along its length to its tip, and etched with Angelic runes on both sides. Its blade blazed aflame with azure flames the moment the oxygen in the air caressed the special metal after being unsheathed. He raised the flaming sword and pointed it to him; the White Army following suite, readying their own weapons.

"By the power bestowed upon me by the Angelic High Council, I, Zarathos, the Archangel of Justice, shall arrest you and all those who followed you for the crime of Treason!"

"Do what you must, my friend..." The Archangel spoke as he unsheathed his own sword; a long and thin single-bladed sword ,and got to a stance. His warhost readied their weapons after him, as the unevitable is about to happen. "Because you still won't stop me."

With a blur, he was onto the Archangel of Justice with a downward slash which was blocked by the latter with his own sword; shockwaves resulted in the clash as blade bit blade. The two friends were not sparring like they did centuries ago, but now they were fighting for their own reasons; the Archangel for his personal mission, and the latter for his duty. Zarathos, though slower, made use of the thick armor as protection from his friend's flurry of strikes; even though he hated to have to cross blades with him, his hands are tied, bound by his duty in service to the High Council.

The Angels posted at the gate just watched in anticipation and fearful uncertainty. The duel between the two factions' leaders have escalated to a full blown skirmish when one of the Hellguards fired his Halberd at the leader of the White Army in defense of his leader and the latter group retaliated in kind; and now, chaos ensued when all their respective followers joined the fray. Swords bit into armor, hammers and maces crashing against shields, and arrows whizzed in the air. Casters exchanged destructive spells in turn, both on the ground and up in mid-air. Riders of Angelic Beasts dove from the air, executing hit and runs or jousted their way with their spears and halberds; some felled by well aimed or stray shots from arrows or beams. But those who wielded the destructive Redemption Cannons were wise enough to stay their hands and chose to smack anyone close enough within swinging range; knowing full well what what the power in their hands could do.

A young Angel Sentinel posted at the Gates of Heaven watched from the safety of the wall's battlements with a grim demeanor, unable to take it anymore. Angels should fight Demons, not their own kind; it's a total blasphemy.

"We must stop them!" He addressed the Captain of the Guards at the gates of Heaven, who stood besides him alongside the other guards. "This is madness!"

"No." The Captain replied in a calm but stern voice.

That shocked him. He gazed at the faces of his fellow guards but saw only alarmed and shocked expressions. No one tried to do anything, even as to plan on doing something.

"Fine! If you are all afraid to do anything, just because of fear for your dainty little wings to be plucked off, I will do it myself!"

He gripped his Halberd with both hands and with a jump, he bound over the battlement into a free fall. Nearly halfway down, he caught sight of a glint from an armor at his flank, and before he knew it, he was slammed hard against the walls. His armor had received most of the damage of the impact with his wings thankfully not suffering a crippling damage; only bruises that will heal in time, not affecting his flight. He opened his eyes and met his Captain's eyes, seeing no fear, just discipline.

"I admire your courage, soldier. But your rash decisions will only bring you in harm's way. Only death awaits you if you'll try to get in between their blades, even if your intention is to break up the fight; they will only see you as the enemy and will not even remorse over your death. Though it pained me as it pained you to watch them do their senseless battle, we must stand our ground. Do you understand?" The young Angel nodded in response. The Captain looked down once then back to his eyes. "Now you must do exactly as I tell you." He released the young one, earning a salute from him.

"Awaiting orders, sir!"

"I want you to go and alert the the High Council, they must know the situation here. And also fetch the Healers. Now, Go!" The youth snapped a salute, took a final peek down, then flew away. The Captain of the Guards looked down and gave a silent prayer. "Father help us..."

Down below, the two Archangels continued to return blow per blow, keeping toe to toe with each other. That is, until an Angel was thrown unintentionally against the Archangel Zarathos and knocking him to the ground. Seeing his opponent out of the way, the Hellguard Archangel passed by him towards the Gates. The Archangel of Justice tried to get to his feet but found it trapped by the chains of a random flail from earlier.

"Get him!" He bellowed out.

A female archer, an elite of the White Army, standing on elevated ground nodded in compliance. She reached out to her quiver and pulled out a special arrow imbued with paralyzing magic; an arrow used to take down targets without causing extreme pain or death. She put the arrow on the bowstring, drawing it back as she carefully aimed at the Hellguard Archangel's back for a sneak shot. She then let go of the arrow.

The Archangel found himself facing an elite Angel of the White Army who wields a pair of oversized gauntlets with ease as he bashed and punched all those who stood in his way - a Brawler. Acting under orders from his leader, the Brawler charged at his target specifically, throwing a flurry of punches and hammer strikes at the Archangel, who parried and dodged easily. Sensing a slight ripple of magic in the air behind him as well as seeing the Brawler's strike coming, the Archangel of the Hellguard sidestepped quickly, watching the magically-imbued arrow fly past him and embedding itself into the Brawler's body; ignoring the thick armor. The Brawler was paralyzed in an instant after throwing a direct cross, but his momentum pushed him forward. The Archangel capitalized; driving his sword to the ground with one hand and grabbing the Brawler's outstretched arm with the other, ducking low under the arm and positioned himself for a throw. Now with both hands on the Brawler's arm, he pulled hard as he reaped his legs, his wings safely flexed forward. The perfect execution of the throw coupled with the Brawler's momentum sent the latter sallying through the air.

The archer cussed in frustration when her arrow missed her intended target. She quickly drew another arrow but never had time to use it as the Brawler's body slammed right against her and the wall, leaving both Angels unconscious.

The Archangel of Justice finally got rid of the chain that had trapped his leg, spotting the other Archangel instantly, having recently thrown one of his subordinates, he picking his fallen weapon and dashed behind him. 'I'm sorry, my friend. But I have to do this,' the thought resounding in his head as he raised his sword and brought it down. However, he felt the blade shook then crashed to the ground at the other side of its intended path. he had the feeling that he knew what will happen next; he had fallen prey to this technique before, in their younger days. trusting his instinct, he quickly reached out to his waist and flash-drawed his knife in a stabbing position, towards the other's throat.

He knew this is a loss-loss situation, but he's taking the risk. He knew it's the only way.

* * *

**Wew... the only long one... Sorry for the Cliff-hanging... Just have to attract the ideas back...**


	11. 11 Battle of Wits

**XI**

The Demon's roar clued to another of its attack, burying the axe's blade deep into the stone floor, then driving it forcefully towards her, sending rocks the size of earthen jugs at her. She quickly lashed out as she continued dashing forward, breaking the stone projectiles into bits and pieces; this, however, was what the Demon has been counting upon. With the rocks serving as a distraction and the dust to slightly obscure her vision, it lunged forward swinging its weapon, with the intention of cutting her body in two from the hips down.

Fury cannot slightly see thanks to the dust, but her intuition kicked in at the last minute; she quickly slid under the axe's blade as it sallied forth, arching her body backward and keeping her head as low as possible while sliding underneath on her knees. She quickly rolled forward after the stop just in time to avoid the axe that was crashing down to her position. She twisted her body mid-roll and ended up on a crouching position facing the Demon. Seeing it starting to charge again, she quickly slammed her left palm to her shadow on the ground then raised it palm-up with both middle finger and pointer finger outstretched; then slamming it down again forward.

Mid-step on the charge, the Demon felt something restraining its lead hoof, but too late to react as it tripped and crashed with a growl. A shadow spike rose from the ground - from his own shadow - to meet it, solidifying then impaling it at the mid-section of its body. Getting on its hooves, it then snapped the spike then pulled it out of its body with a grunt. The spike then receded back to its shadow state after it was cast away. The rider narrowed her eyes when the Demon gave out an unearthly chuckle as it hoisted itself up with the help of its weapon.

"What's so funny?" She inquired in the language that both understand, her first tongue.

"**You amuse me, Nephilim...**" it replied. "**To think that a hybrid, such as yourself, can think of besting me in combat.**"

"And what of it?" She retorted.

"**Beginner's luck, that's what I call it.**"

"I don't believe in luck, Demon", she scoffed. "If I willed it, then it will be as I had willed it to be."

"**Indeed...**" It boomed out loud. "**Then luck is on my side...**"

"And why would that be? Pray tell..."

"**Simple...**" It ran a hand and scratched its chest, peeling of some of the black furs that covered it and revealing an identical pentagram sigil already there; it was cauterized, as if branded just a minute ago. "**Because I am INVINCIBLE!**" With that, the pentagram throbbed once again, pulsating in crimson glow. Spectral figures caught her eyes, before vanishing in a flash of crimson light, and to where is obvious.

"WHAT!?" She was surprised for a second but managed to recover quickly. She admitted that did surprised her. To think that it had a second pentagram, but when did it marked itself? She had no idea when and how it did, in all honesty.

"**You seemed surprised?**"

"In the least..."

"**I knew that sooner or later, you would figure out my weakness, and that you did. Defacing my seal...**"

"So, you read my mind..."

"**Did you think you're the only one with a calculative mind-set? I too, have been observing you from the beginning and I must admit, you are a formidable opponent. Your proficiency in wielding your shadows is outstandi-**"

"And did you know that we are adamant towards praises?" She cut off. "Don't stray from the main path, will you?" Irritation was now clear on her voice.

"**No... I don't read minds.**"

"And?"

"**It's what those Angels did to me! They destroyed my greatest strength by destroying my seal!**" Its roar resonated once more across the vast chamber. "**But not anymore...**"

"What do you mean not anymore?"

"**I knew that a day will come when an enemy will appear to use my weakness against me for the second time. And in order to do that, I devised a contingency plan for my own if it did happen. Even if I have to use a pathetic human's body to do it.**"

Now, she understood it all - the monk, the knights, and the ritual. All were just a part of an elaborate plan for the Demon's escape from its prison. She glimpsed the other souls from earlier, screaming and trying to flee only to be sucked back into the Demon's body. At first, its mouth was the only orifice for its food but now, the souls were greedily absorbed by its very skin; it had escalated. She gritted her teeth at the sight of its wounds healing up faster than minutes ago. More souls mean more energy, and to the point where it will return to its former strength before being imprisoned. It had to be stopped.

With hand motions, several pairs of ember-red eyes glowed in the shadows followed by low growling sounds. From the shadows emerged a pack of the furry black dogs and trotted forward around her, snarling and glaring at their prey. She held up a fist to signal their strike as the pack crouched in anticipation.

"**You know what?**" It spoke again.

"What now?" She paused a bit and stared at the Demon. She then noticed that the flow of souls had stopped, meaning it was finished replenishing itself.

"**You really are a half-Angel thing...**" It chuckled.

"Oh... did that surprised you to know?" She inquired sarcastically smirking a bit. In this battle of wits, the one who will lose their head will in fact lose one's head - literally.

"**You had that fire of determination burning in your eyes, one that I so wished to stamp out any time soon. You had that same look as the Angel who fought and sealed me long ago. I do admit, I fell to his blade that day...**"

Fury scoffed. "Well, pray you won't fall to mine either..."

"**Ha! You think you can best me!?**" It roared in maniacal laughter. "**You spoke the very words that those pesky Angels said before I tore their puny bodies apart, what a coincidence is that?**"

"But looking back, those **pesky****Angels** still sealed you, didn't they?" She emphasized the words. "Wow, look at you... His butt handed back to him, funny coincidence right?"

"**Shut your up that foul mouth of yours before I cut that insolent tongue for you, hybrid!**" It exclaimed. She could practically see its blood boiling in its veins and its nose blowing off steam in anger. "**Have you no idea who I really am!?**"

"Don't know... Don't care..." She replied dryly. She was now quite irritated bay its incessant blabbering, more so when it laughed again.

"**How amusing! I was sealed for so long but here I am, facing some idiot who still don't of my glory...**"

"Care to share then?"

"**I am Lord Baphometh, one of the Princes of He-**"

"Blah blah blah..." Fury rolled her eyes. "Of course I knew your name! Just stop your self-righteous ranting will you?" She motioned her hand at last, glad that she did so, watching her pack dashed forward, their glowing eyes trailing a fine wavy line in the shadows.

"**You still had no idea what I am capable of do you?**"

It lifted the axe then threw it forcefully towards her, slicing a beast in the way. Bits of the ground flew in all direction when it embedded itself into the hard rock floor as the Rider jumped out of the way. She turned around to inspect her opponent, only to find it missing. A sound overhead made her look up, then dove-and-rolled out of the way as the Demon swooped down into an attack intending to stomp upon her from above. From the roll, she went into a backflip towards one of the stone columns; avoiding the axe and watched as steel collided with stone, cleaving a considerable large chunk of stone from it. She landed horizontally above with bent legs and a ready weapon, launched herself to it with a kick to the column then lashing out at its chest - only to be blocked by its wings.

She landed in a crouch behind it, mentally ordering the pack to encircle it then strike simultaneously. The first beast was impaled by the Demon's tails, the second swatted away by a back fist; the third caught then squeezed to pulp, and so on. Two others lunged simultaneously from each sides but collided midway when the Demon jumped up in mid-air, flexing both wings and flapped them vigorously. She let out a number of lashes but it simply dodged or flew out of range; capitalizing on its advantage of flight. It sucked in air then released it in a long and intense gout of Hellfire, quickly mopping out the remaining Shadow beasts.

"**Catch me if you can, Nephilim!**" It taunted as it flew out of the way from another lash from the Rider.

It raised both arms above its head as if holding its flames, then bought them down facing her. A fireball materializes at the palms then was shot at her in series. She evaded every fiery orb as she ran around with a chain of explosions at her heels, striking and destroying some that came too close for her comfort. She quickly dove behind one of the columns to bid her time to think of some strategies, feeling the tremor as the fiery balls hit then exploded against the stone behind her; the Demon intent on destroying the pillar instead just to get to her. Cracks then began to appear around the pillar from the continuous bombarding, the force eating at it slowly but surely.

"**You can run, Nephilim, but you can't hide forever!**"

Fury looked around and up, seeing only low-hanging Stalactites and some Stalagmites at the edges, and formulated her strategy. She motioned towards the Stalagmites on the floor ahead, the shadows racing to their individual bases and protruding a number of black tendrils. These tendrils then quickly wove themselves onto each other, forming a net of shadows, sturdy enough to hold one of the pillars in the chamber. She ran then leapt onto this net, jumping in the same time it propelled her upwards in break-neck speed, straightening her body on the way. Near the cavernous roof, she lashed out to the lowest-hanging Stalactite near the pillar, the whip winding around the tip; then pulled herself to it, swinging towards the said column as fast as she can. She let go of the Stalactite as she went into a corkscrew spin with her body, kicking the top of the stone pillar and toppling it off on top of the hovering Demon. The rock column gave way under her full weight combined with her momentum and speed, but its velocity toppling down was a slow one. A jingling of chains were heard as it suddenly stopped on its fall, the chains connected to the cage holding it in place and left it hanging by its chains in a 45 degree angle.

The Demon just laughed as it flew aside. "**Nice plan, Nephilim... But it doesn't seem to be working!**"

"Oh no, it worked VERY WELL just as expected..." She retorted, dashing up the hanging pillar. "You didn't think I could get this very near to you, did you?"

She then leapt towards the hovering Demon with weapon ready to strike.

* * *

**A/N: I know, I sucked at the conversation... I didn't translated it because I also sucked at translations... And... Sorry if the next chapter will take long to be uploaded... **

**Eldar Wraithbone Singers had sung their melodies to Khaela Mensha Khaine in my head; their wraithbones had slowly engulfed my mind and no idea now seemed to grow out of it. Perhaps if I could just reverse the lyrics of their song, I could reverse the effects. Uh, in short**, **in short, I'm having a mental block right now...**

**... And the situation is dire here in the Philippines...**


End file.
